


If I fell

by FilmsAreFriends



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Heavy Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-21
Updated: 2015-11-21
Packaged: 2018-05-02 18:36:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5259398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FilmsAreFriends/pseuds/FilmsAreFriends
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alright. This is a hard one to write. Themes of major depression and anxiety pop up here. Not my usual stuff. </p><p>Red tries to pull away after Liz is exonerated. She falls down a hole while he remains neutral to her suffering. Lots of angst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The FBI had pulled the rug out from underneath the CIA's involvement with the Cabal. The new director had ruled that Liz be exonerated, and that Reddington would get his immunity as long as he provided them with leads on other Cabal members. While she was no longer an FBI agent, Liz acted as an intermediate between them and Red. It wasn't much, but it wasn't prison.

Since her exoneration, things had been different between her and Red. They went from intensely personal to a strictly need-to-know basis. Somehow, she missed the closeness with him--changing in the back seat of vans, sharing interpersonal stories in the theater, and even just telling jokes over a bottle of wine. It all made some nuance of sense to her. It was "normal" in the conventional manner, but it was as close to it as she could manage.

But now things were different, they had received the news while they were sharing a bottle of cabernet in his apartment. He slowly rose from their small kitchen table and told her he would come back later. She didn't see him again until they signed the papers at the post office with Ressler. His jaw was locked, and the curve of his shoulders was sharper than usual. His face was drawn and he seemed to count the words he let out, as if he was limiting himself. He gave her an uncomfortable hug and disappeared.

And things just went on. Like nothing had changed.

But everything had changed.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

"The intention of the first session is to determine if there will be a second session. I don't want to pressure you into thinking I'm the only one who can help. If you don't like my style, there are lots of other therapists I can recommend to you. Just keep that in mind, Ms. Keen. But now, why don't you tell me what brought you here?"

He was very clinical, but she seemed to scare logic away lately. Clinical was good. Clinical was reason. Clinical was just like her job. The job she intended to have at least.

"You mean you don't know?"

"Well, half the world knows. But I want to know what you think."

"Well I was on the run with number four on the FBI's most wanted list for a month, my mother was a Russian KGB agent, I killed my father when I was four, I lost the only job I ever wanted. Oh, and my fake husband and I never had what I wanted with an actual husband because of my wonderfully disastrous life."

"What was his name?"

"Tom. He was a perfect husband, really. So many things changed when I started my job. I learned a great deal about how my reality works; about how different it is from the fantasy I had in the years I was with Tom."

"We can get to your childhood a bit later, I'm sure that conventional therapy techniques won't work here. I was threatened with an absurd amount of prison time should I tell anyone about this. I've never been in an underground facility before either."

He smirked. She wasn't in the mood for this. She just needed pills and breathing exercises for her panic attacks.

He seemed to sense her aggravation and moved on: "So, why don't you tell me about your relationship with this..." He flipped a few pages and continued, "Raymond Reddington."

She let her head fall. "How much more time do we have?"

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was much more difficult than he had anticipated, to be at an arm's length of her, and then to force himself to push her away. But he was just pulling himself away. He felt like a screaming child reluctantly going to the doctors to get a shot. But things had vastly improved. And she didn't need him when things were good, she only needed him when the whole house of cards came crumbling down on her. But now, she was safe and he was determined not to make her life any worse for wear, it was unnecessary to bother her. Their time together had been beautiful, it afforded him the opportunity to memorize every ridge in her scar, every way she laughed, to personally acquaint himself with how she smelled--like sandalwood, he was delighted to know. Those memories sustained him, and they had to continue to do so.

He found himself smashed into the left side of his couch in his apartment. Dembe had summoned some of his old associates for extra security, so he felt safe enough to live there for the time being.

He kept thinking about her hands, smooth and small, yet somehow strong and willing. Capable and gentle at the same time. He looked down at his own hands, hairy and ugly in his mind; he would always have the hands of a killer, he couldn't even begin to fathom the amount of blood that rested under his fingernails.

A knock on the door startled him out of his reverie.

"What?" Why bother with niceties anyway?

"Raymond, agent Navabi is here to see you."

Samar. He didn't want to see anyone but Lizzie, but that was nothing new.

"Alright, Dembe, send her in."

He stood, re-buttoned his shirt, and adjusted his vest. She strode in with her usual flair. Her strength and confidence only made him think about Lizzie even more.

"Agent Navabi, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

She smirked at him, he felt uncomfortable. He never felt uncomfortable.

"Do you remember the night we..."

He sighed. It was after the whole Luther Braxton ordeal. He was drunk, she was injured. It was the one of the worst nights of his life. A drink and a quick lay. He felt like a loser. 

"Yes, I do. Your point?"

"Well, Reddington, from what I remember, you were quite...good."

He laughed, from his belly this time.

"And what? You've come here to stroke my ego?"

She stepped closer to him. He instinctively stepped back.

"No, I was thinking we could come up with a mutually beneficial arrangement."

He exhaled with an aggravated huff. "I'm in no mood for jokes, my dear."

"Fine, then I guess I'll just leave."

He caught her wrist before she had a chance to turn. She was beautiful, and he was a man after all. A man with needs. A man who needed to drown his sorrows, a woman was better than a bottle of scotch.

She smiled seductively. "No one can know, Reddington. And don't make this out to be more than it is."

"Believe me, I won't."

"Don't expect me to be here for long."

His charming smile faded.

"No one ever is."


	2. Chapter 2

"Any news from Reddington?"

Ressler sat proudly at his assistant director's desk. Liz noticed he had a new name plate made. The letters were bigger. He must have been beaming when he was bumped up.

"He had Dembe bring me a file this morning. There's a baker that hides counterfeit bills in his dough that he sends to restaurants. He said our guy does some business with him. All the information is in the file."

"Make ten copies of that and give them to Aram to distribute. Anything else?"

"Not right now."

"Good, then you can leave after you're done.”  
She wondered what in the hell happened to her partner, the one that offered to beat up her fake husband, the one that let her go when the director came for her. He was different, he was a ghost. Then again, they were all different. Including Red.

“Thank you, Ressler.”

“Hey Keen?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t come back until I call you, okay? The new director isn’t too happy with this whole arrangement and I’m trying to get her to come around. Both of your deals are still in place, but we’re just not sure about this whole third party thing between us and Reddington. We’re just on thin ice, so wait for my word.”

She swallowed so hard, she felt the impact down to her toes. Her days were numbered, that’s what he was saying.

“Sure, okay. I’ll talk to you...when I talk to you.”

She made her way to the file room and quickly shut the door. She took a cleansing breath and ran over the implications of what he had just said.

It was all over, their too-good-to-be-true deal, their freedom, their connection. No, this couldn’t be happening. What would she do? Tom had left, Red was drawing permanent lines in the sand, and the task force wouldn’t need her. Red wouldn’t need her. She would be nobody.

She would be better off dead.

A soft knock on the door startled her. A voice came from the other side: “Agent Navabi, are you in there?”

It was Red. She ran her hands through her hair and quickly busied herself with the copy machine.

“Umm, no, it’s...Liz.”

There was silence, and then, “Oh, hi Lizzie. Can I come in?”

Oh dear God no, she couldn’t look at him right now, damnit.

“I’m just making copies, I think Samar is in her office.”

“Oh, okay. Well...thanks.”

She heard him walk away and rolled her tongue over her teeth. What the hell did he want with Samar? Was he giving Samar the information to push her out? Why would he do that?

There was only one way to find out. She finished making the copies quickly and made her way over to Aram.

“Liz, hey! How are you doing?”

She looked around. No sign of either of them.

“Hey Aram, I’m okay. Ressler wanted me to have you give a copy of these to everyone.”

“Sure thing...are you okay?”

She was too busy looking around to respond.

“Liz?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you okay? You keep looking around.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I just…Reddington is here?”

“Oh, yeah, Mr. Reddington has been coming by to work with Agent Navabi on some information with this new blacklister. Apparently Mossad has some contacts that can help us out.”

She crossed her arms. He was a great liar when he wanted to be. Well, she was just going to wait. She didn’t care what Ressler said.

“So Aram, are you-”

They came out of her office, they both had business faces, they were schooled. She knew it. She just knew. They got on the elevator together without a word. When the doors closed, she started moving.

“Liz?”

“I’m sorry, Aram, I have an appointment. I’ll talk to you soon.”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“This is the last time I’m going to come and get you.”

“Why?”

“Because people will know. From here on out, we meet at the hotel. Got it?”

“Hey, calm down, no one knows a thing. If we could just meet at your apartment, this whole thing would be easi-”

“No. You have your rules and I have mine. Hotel only.”

“Right, the apartment is just for you and Keen. Wonder if you’ll ever use it.”

He swung his head around to look at her. No, he didn’t like that.

“Don’t talk to me about Elizabeth. Do you understand?”

“Hey, you don’t have a right to talk to me like that. Do you understand?”

He was grinding his teeth.

“Good, then let’s just get this over with and I’ll see you next week.”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“The Sheraton isn’t my scene.”

Well, it was, because that’s where she followed them.

She really should have known. She had already decided that she was the reason why he made them stay in D.C. So he could stay in touch with his lover.

The bastard. He played her from the start, to get in bed with the FBI.

It was fake. He was fake. His kind words and promises of care and trust…

Synthetic. Cheap. Filthy with the grime left over from a criminal’s lies.

He never cared about her. He never would.

There was a time when she felt cradled in his embrace, when she felt safe, warm, loved. But not anymore. He had left her alone in the copy room when she needed him, left her to be with Samar. And he would do it again, and again.

She remembered what her doctor had said: “What you allow, will continue.”

She allowed him to make her feel that she belonged, that she had value. But Samar apparently had more value to him than she ever would.

She sat outside and tried her hardest to cry, but nothing came. She had been left to her own devices again. Everyone just left, everyone just made her feel special for the moment, with the contingency of leaving her.

She had let it happen again. She let herself get attached. She punched her steering wheel until she felt her knuckles throb. She left before Samar got in a taxi and headed back to the Post Office.


	3. Chapter 3

Won't you please, please tell me what we've learned  
I know it sounds absurd  
But please tell me who I am.  
-Logical Song, Supertramp

"Ms. Keen, please sit down."

"You have no idea how I'm feeling right now. Don't you understand? He's gone. I'm alone. I'm alone again. He was my friend, my partner, my..."

"I think you're finally ready to hear this now, Ms. Keen. Please sit down."

Liz plopped herself onto the couch. With her shoulders sagged and her legs like jelly, she looked like a dead body. She felt like one, too. 

"Elizabeth, you are in love. With Raymond. I think you have been for a long time."

"No, that's not..."

"Elizabeth, I've been doing this for a long time, and I must say that the signs of love can cloud one's judgment considerably. It doesn't take a doctor to know that. But this is destroying you. You've been coming here once a week, telling me how well you're doing on your own, but you're lying. You're simply trying to distract yourself from this inevitable truth. And when you have those panic attacks about him, the rage, the fear, the camaraderie, and the love you feel for him, it all comes up at once. He has become all you have and you are letting it stay that way. The way I see it is this, if you want to try and get better you have two choices. You can tell him how you feel and regardless of whether or not he feels the same, it will set you free from hiding. Or you can just walk away and forget about all of this, live a good life. You are losing weight, not getting enough sleep. He's not hurting you, you're hurting yourself by not advocating for your own wellbeing. This has become bigger than you wanted, but it's here, and now you have to choose."

She silently stood up and softly spoke: "thank you for your help." Without another word, she left.

Dr. Rix knew he wouldn't be seeing her again. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She collapsed her routine, fell into isolation and avoidance. She would eat once a day, she didn't have the stomach for more than one meal.

She would have told him how she felt, but she didn't have it in her. If he had found a form of happiness with Samar, who was she to ruin that? Just because she was miserable didn't mean she had to take him down with her.

Moving crossed her mind. Escaping, not coming back. But the sliver of hope that he would eventually come to her, that he would eventually know, it kept her around.

It kept her breathing on nights when all she wanted to do was swallow her entire medicine cabinet. How could she let Raymond Reddington become all she had? She would lay down every night and hope that the fates would fix her life, pick up the pieces for her.

Truth be told, she had no energy to do it herself.

Her phone rang. Ressler.

"Keen."

"Hey Liz, how are you doing?" What was with that patronizing tone?

"Uh, hi. What's the matter?"

"Remember when I told you that we were having some trouble working out this whole arrangement? Well, it turns out that Reddington cut an end-all deal with the director. I'm looking at a binder filled with Cabal member names and his cell number if we need his help. He's free to go, but he's on a parole of sorts. You're free too, Keen. It's finally over."

Over? He means she's over, surely.

"...I...I don't know what to say."

"Well, good luck, Keen. Enjoy your life for once." With that, he hung up.

And that was it. The proverbial straw that broke the camel's back.

She was alone. Alone as usual.

A book isn't a book without pages, a pencil is useless without a sharpener, a glass is meaningless with nothing in it.

The light is lackluster without the dark.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He took another swig of scotch. It was done. He had a chip back in his neck, an agent on his security team, and the freedom to live again.

If you could call it living. He did it for her, and she would never know. He did it so they didn't have to awkwardly talk through a door, so she would never call him a monster again, so she could just forget about him. But he had forgotten one thing: Raymond Reddington is nothing without Elizabeth Keen.

"The things we've put each other through."

"You mean the things you put her through."

His loyal brother sat next to him on the couch and put his feet on their garish coffee table.

"I saw her a few days ago Dembe, she was at the Post Office. She didn't even want to look at me. We couldn't even talk to each other..."

"Oh, brother...you are the smartest man I know, but you're quite a fool."

He shook his head. A fool alright. Always a fool for Elizabeth Keen.

"Where did she go tonight?"

"She stopped for some gas and went to her hotel, she hasn't left."

"I wonder what the hell she's doing in there all night."

"If you ask me, she is thinking about you, Raymond. And here you are, thinking about her. I've never known you to be a selfish man, brother. But why aren't you telling her the truth? Isn't it clear that she is hurting immensely?"

He shook his head. "There's no way it's because of me, Dembe. She hates me, if I went to her, I would make things worse."

Dembe stood and looked down to meet Red's eyes.

"If that provides you some measure of comfort, go ahead and believe it. But Elizabeth is running herself into the ground, and the only way to find out if it is a consequence of your actions is for you to go to her."

Red huffed and downed the rest of his scotch as Dembe exited. He wasn't going to talk to her, she would only throw stones to get him to stop. It wasn't as if they never left marks on him. He collected every insult, every time she pushed him away, all the dirty looks. He had made his life, but he had never anticipated her being a part of it in such a capacity. The possibility of her caring about him was something he couldn't allow himself to believe.

He had broken off his fling with Samar and went straight to the liquor store. He was ready to let things happen instead of orchestrating them. It was about time he took a break.

If Lizzie needed him, she knew where to find him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter contains self harm/ suicide attempt.

Some things seemed small, but for the most part, every interruption in her pale days was a travesty. All she needed was a little push and she would spend her nights curled in the corner of her motel room.

And the questions. God, the questions.

Why isn't he calling about me? Does he even care where I am? What would happen if I just left? Would he even notice if I died?

No, she can't think like that. But still, the silence of death was so appealing in comparison to the screaming of the questions. She considered going back to Dr. Rix, to re-evaluate, to see how she could let him go. She tried to pretend that she could do it alone, and she did for so long, but he had taken too much from her.

And only he could give it back. But he wasn't, he simply didn't care anymore. And she wondered, in what universe does Raymond Reddington not care about Elizabeth Keen?

"This one," she said to the empty room.

She stood and made her way to the bathroom, the weight of the bags under her eyes never felt so draining until she saw them in the mirror. She found the sleeping pills that Dr. Rix had prescribed.

She wondered if she should write a note. No, she thought, I have nothing left to say. He took it all and ran.

Sitting on her bed, she swallowed the pills one at a time.

One. He orchestrated her entire childhood.

Two. He hired Tom Keen

Three. He sabotaged her chance at normalcy.

Four. He made her fall in love with him.

Five. He took himself away.

Six. He left her in her time of need.

The rest of the bottle. He won't ever care about me.

She dropped her head to her pillow and waited for relief, for her mind to become black, for the pain to dissipate.

But it didn't. Instead she listened to her heart beat, to her steady breaths and suddenly she was in a wheelchair, in the Stewmaker's cabin.

And Red was there, with his warm hand on her head.

And the same warm hand holding hers..."you can trust me."

And two warm arms wrapped around her..."everything is going to be okay."

And his hand again, holding hers, while she walked through fire as a girl.

And he was there, he was there the night of the fire, holding her hand.

Light blonde hair on his knuckles.

His fedora burning on the floor.

No. She can't do this. They are two sides of the same coin, and maybe he does really care, and maybe she can't let go just yet, and she has to get these pills out of her.

But her eyes act on their own accord, and her stomach jumps, and the darkness brushes her will aside as she battles her impending quiet.

No. He has to care, he has to...

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

"Raymond, Elizabeth hasn't left her room in two days. I've managed to see through the shade that she is just sitting in there, I don't think she has eaten or watched television, or done anything but sit there."

His breath felt like a tennis ball caught in his throat. He knew things were bad, but not this bad. He had purposefully done his best to stand clear of her. His mind told him to stay away, to let things be. But he shouldn't have listened. He was letting her ruin herself, and it had to be because of him.

"Keep an eye on her, I'll be there in ten minutes."

When he arrived, Dembe was pacing outside her door.

"What's the matter?"

"She just fell asleep just a few moments ago. I tried knocking but there's no answer."

"We need to go in."

"I don't think she will like that."

"I have to talk to her, Dembe. I can't let her do this to herself. If she doesn't want me, I'll get someone else involved, but I can't let her do this."

Dembe nodded and turned, he banged on her door. No answer. Red pushed him aside and tried banging harder. Something was wrong. Her bed was so close to the door.

"Lizzie? It's Red, please open the door."

Silence. No, this wasn’t right.

He tried raising his voice. “Lizzie?” She was silent. “Lizzie! I’m coming in now!”

He turned to Dembe and nodded. He plowed through the door with no trouble.

She wasn’t moving. He rushed to the side of her bed and felt her pulse. Dembe picked up the empty pill bottle on her nightstand, “Raymond,” his voice was cracking.  
Red’s eyes widened. Sleeping pills. No, no, no. Why would she do this to herself? More importantly, why didn’t he get involved sooner. 

He turned back to look at her face, she was pale and her pulse was faint. Dembe was already on the phone and he was just kneeling next to her, helpless.

“Lizzie, Lizzie please come back to me. Please…”


	5. Chapter 5

"I'm looking for a Mr. Reddington."  
"I'm here," he launched back at the nurse. He quickly made his way to her to hear Lizzie's fate.  
"Sir, we've pumped her stomach and she's resting. She should be fine."  
He breathed out heavily. "Can I see her?"  
“Of course. I’ll bring you to her now. She won’t be up anytime soon though.”

“I just want to be with her…”

The nurse smiled. “Follow me.”

He was hot on her tail until they reached Lizzie’s bedside. She had gotten some of her color back, but she was still so pale. His feet felt like ghosts and his mouth went dry at the sight of her. She had tried to kill herself. He didn’t even want to think about why; he just wanted to see her face—awake and soft, and purely Lizzie.

The nurse laid her hand on his shoulder. He had forgotten about her.

“Sir, her psychologist has been notified, he should be here shortly to discuss your next steps.”

What? “Her psychologist?”

“Yes, sir. We called him about an hour ago. I’ll leave you alone now. He should be here any minute now.”

He said nothing. He had nothing to say. She had tried to kill herself and he wasn’t there and she had a psychologist and he didn’t know anything about her anymore. He thought she would have had a real apartment, perhaps a boyfriend, or at least good friends, and a new job. But no, she had needed him and where was he?

He collapsed in the chair next to her bed, laid his head near her hip and cried. He cried out of guilt, out of pure sorrow, he cried for what he let them become.

But most importantly, he cried as if it would make Elizabeth Keen come back faster.

 

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Well, I hope I am not making an incorrect assumption in saying that you must be Raymond?”

He had forced himself to stop crying just minutes before the doctor came in. He wanted to know everything, and no one was allowed to see Raymond Reddington in a time of weakness.

“I would say not. And you are?”

“I’m Dr. Rix. Let me say it’s a pleasure to meet such a legend.”

“Yes, we do exist among you. Please have a seat,” he motioned toward the small table with two chairs near the bleak looking hospital window. Dr. Rix took out a small file and laid it in front of them. He was a small man with glasses, a healthy beard, and a wedding ring. He seemed nice enough to Red, but he was still in shock so his normally acute judgment was dulled considerably.

“Without revealing too much confidential information, I must say that I am very surprised, Mr. Reddington. Elizabeth stopped seeing me after a particularly harsh session about two weeks ago. But even then, I had no reason to believe this would happen. I’m greatly sorry that I didn’t know.”

Red swallowed hard and nodded in acknowledgement.

The doctor regarded him for a moment and began again, “were you aware that Elizabeth was seeing me, Mr. Reddington?”

“No, Elizabeth and I…we lost touch after…”

“Yes, I know. But from what I gathered, you seemed to have a continually vested interest in Ms. Keen’s affairs, am I wrong?”

He grunted. “When we got back, I tried to let her live a normal life, Dr. Rix. And apparently I didn’t take many things into account. Do you think that I am satisfied with the result?”

Dr. Rix cleared his throat and tugged at his collar. “No, sir, I am just trying to make sure Elizabeth will be taken care of after she gets out of the institution.”

He didn’t waste a second. “No, that’s not happening, she’s not going to an institution, I won’t allow it.”

Dr. Rix tilted his head. “Mr. Reddington, it isn’t up to you. Elizabeth can decide how she wishes to proceed, but I highly recommend at least a two week stay somewhere where she will be cared for.”

“And I can’t care for her?”

“Clearly your interest in doing so has become stunted, Mr. Reddington. That is why I saw Elizabeth as a patient. When she left, she was in a vulnerable state and needed help. I couldn’t force her to take my own, but it seems as if you are all she has, sir. And when you weren’t there, she clearly didn’t find it anywhere else. So I am now trying to recommend what will be best for my patient. I’m sorry if I offended your sensibilities.”

His rage was unmatched. He had done this to her, but he didn’t need anyone to remind him. When all else failed, it was straight to intimidation.“You have no idea who I am, do you?”

Dr. Rix stood and placed the file back in his satchel. He swung it over his shoulder and breathed out heavily. 

“I have an idea of who you were, Mr. Reddington, probably better than most because of my sessions with Elizabeth. But now you are all that is left for someone who has a lot to give this world. You are the only person outside of a hospital that cares about what will happen to her. She is strong and willing, but she needs help. What are you going to do with that?”

He licked his lips and was about to respond when Dr. Rix interrupted him.

“Think about what you want to do. Elizabeth should be awake soon. Talk to her, be honest with her. I will come back tomorrow to talk to you both. Best of luck, Mr. Reddington.”

 

He ran his thumb almost ceremoniously across her knuckles. He had to take care of her; he had to be there.

“R-Red?”

His face shot up to meet her eye-level. “Lizzie, hey sweetheart. How are you feeling?” 

“Oh Red, I’m…”

“We don’t have to talk now. I just want you to know I’m here, I’m not going anywhere. All the rest can wait until you feel up to it.”

She turned her head so he couldn’t see her face. The plethora of emotions hit their crescendo when she saw his hopeful face. It was the same face he gave her when he saved her from the Stewmaker. The same face when she told him she remembered killing her father, when she woke up from the Luther Braxton incident. It was too much, and he seemed to sense it as well.

“I just want you to know that Dr. Rix should be here in a few hours, we have to make a decision about what you want to do after you’re out of here.”

“Do? Can’t I go home?”

“Yes, Dr. Rix recommends a two week stay in a...well, somewhere where they will make sure you’re okay.”

“But I am okay, Red. I want want to end up in a mental hospital, that will ruin my life, I’ll never…” She stopped to catch her breath and tried to reach for the small cup of water at her bedside. 

“Here, let me get that, Lizzie, don’t move.”

He brought the water to her lips and she refused to make eye contact with him while she drank. When he was settled back in his chair, he began again.

“I was going to say that you can come and...stay with me. I know I haven’t been here for you, but I want to be now. Please give me-”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” 

“I'd rather stay with someone I detest at the moment than go to one of those places.” 

Detest. He shouldn't have been surprised. Every rose has its thorn and such. 

But it was a start, and they had started down so many roads together, only to come out side by side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't mean to bash mental hospitals. However, I do think things can be vastly improved as far as care for the mentally ill. So, there's that. 
> 
> PS: Thank you all so much for the kind words and kudos. Simply lovely.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Long-ish chapter, but I wanted to brighten things at least a little. Thank you for the kind words, I adore them.

He stood in the hallway while Dr. Rix talked to Lizzie. He had been in the same clothes for too long, his dress pants felt scratchy and awkward. He had been waiting too long and all he could do was pace. He wanted to know so many things. The weight gathered in his chest like granite pulling him toward his center, to collapse inside himself and just shut it all out. 

But that's what he did to get there, pacing in the hospital, waiting for Lizzie to get better. 

He had had enough. He decided to eavesdrop, no one would know, it didn't matter. 

"I still advise you go to the hospital, they will take care of you well. I hope you trust me enough to accept my advice on this."

"Dr. Rix, I have to go forward and not be scared of how I feel any longer. I would like to continue my sessions again if that is okay?"

What did she feel? 

Dr. Rix was defeated, but smiled at her amicably. 

"Of course, Ms.Keen. You have all of my best wishes. I will have my secretary write you in for your usual day and time."

She reached out a weary hand to him, he squeezed it as he stood to leave. She didn't do that when he left. But he didn't deserve it. 

"Thank you, Doctor. I will see you soon."

He was glad she had someone when he was too busy trying to fix things himself. But now things had to change, and they had to change fast.

He rushed down the hallway and waited for Dr. Rix. He approached him with his usual flair when he knew he had won. He felt ridiculous being proud of her choosing to stay with him. But it was something; they had nothing but faint echoes of their usual conversations, and he hadn't even seen her in person in a month. 

"Mr. Reddington, I hope that you will take good care of her. She deserves it."

"I will always take good care of her, Doctor."

"Yes, well, hopefully now more than you have been lately."

He pushed his teeth together as tightly as he could without hurting himself. Dr. Rix simply walked away. 

He didn't like him, not because he was direct, but because he was right. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The ride to her hotel was quiet and insidious for the both of them. He had asked if she was alright once, she nodded. Her closed-off body language told him to just leave her alone, so he bounced ideas around in his head. He wanted to know how she felt about him, but he knew any push from him could harm her all over again. 

When they arrived, he followed her inside to help gather her belongings, he held open a duffel bag while she threw things haphazardly into it in silence. She didn't have much, it made the pit of guilt inside of him twitch. She crossed her arms and stood in front of him. He felt awkward holding the duffel bag between them, so he dropped it on the floor, the noise startled them both. 

"Is that all?"

"Yeah, I just have to pay the clerk to keep the room for me."

"Why don't let me take care of that? It's going to be a while before you're ready to come back."

Her arms pushed deeper into her body, she was as tight as a drum. 

"When did you get your Ph.D, Reddington?"

"Wha-"

"Look, we have a lot to talk about, but please, for my sake, stop acting like this. We don't work together anymore, there is no logical reason for you to even be here with me. So just cut the shit with this daunting protector act, okay?"

His fingers were shaking, he could feel it, they were shaking and this never happened before, he just stared at her, like the coward he felt he was in his heart. 

"Good. I'll meet you in the car."

She walked past him with a disgusted look. He really needed a drink and it was only noon. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

They made it to his house in the same fashion--in silence. He carried her bag inside and laid it on the couch. 

"I'm going to go shower and change. When I'm done, the bedroom is all yours."

She nodded. She had to talk to him. One way or another, it had to happen. Kicking off her shoes, she decided the best approach would be to remain calm and appear comfortable, he would sense if she wasn't and take advantage of it. She wasn't dealing with Red anymore. He had set the precedent for them. She was dealing with Raymond Reddington, the criminal, the calculated bastard that left her to her own devices after he sucked her dry. Strategy was the only way to continue. 

When he returned about a half an hour later, she was reading a book on the couch-- "To Kill a Mockingbird". 

"Atticus is one of my favorite characters in literature. If only I could half the man he is, maybe we wouldn't be in this mess."

She looked up to find him in all black--black sweatpants, a long-sleeved black shirt, and black socks. He looked somewhat surprised as he spoke, as if the words came out against his will. 

"Yes, Atticus seems to think that right and wrong are objective ideas. Personally, I've always thought they were subjective. We all have different realities."

He sat down next to her. A bold move. "I would have never thought you'd say something like that."

"Like what? That we all have a different code of honor?"

"Precisely." 

"Well, we do. Look at you and me. My code of honor used to be the FBI rule book. But my world doesn't work that way, and neither does yours."

"I'm sure agent Ressler's world does."

She grinned. Albeit, a small one. 

"Hey Red, we should-"

"Not now, Lizzie...we just got home."

“Please stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“If I want to talk to you, I should be able to. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Of course we are. You know that.”

“No. I didn’t. Red, there are a lot of reasons that I did what I did. But the biggest was that you made the decision for me to just end us. I just...you wouldn’t even ask about me, you started seeing Samar, you cut a deal with the new director without asking me; you just started a new life, and you made it clear that you didn’t want me to be a part of it.”

“Samar? How did you-”

“I saw you two at the hotel...I know I have no right to be possessive or to even think that I have a place in your life, but I just thought that you cared about me. With some semblance of sincerity.”

“I failed you...and I thought that if I left you to live a life without having to shoulder my burdens, that you would be happier."

"Well, I wasn't. And you didn't even ask if I was. So I decided that you didn't want me around anymore." 

 

“Lizzie-”

“Please, let’s just not talk about it anymore."

But he wanted to talk about it. He wanted her to know that he would do anything for her; that it was simply impossible for him to love another human being more than her. 

“As you wish.”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She sighed. She wanted to talk about it, too. But she was in no state of mind to do so. She just needed him to be there, next to her, for a little while at least. 

But after some time, it wasn’t enough. She wanted to touch him, to experience the closeness they had while they were on the run. They had become a new kind of fugitive, ones too scared to admit that they operated best together. 

She looked over at him--his hands laying flat on his knees almost looked shaky and unsure. His head was bent at an awkward angle, one where she imagined he could still see her. She brought her hand to hover just above his. He noticed immediately and looked at her with something she could only describe as hopeful sincerity. She slowly lowered her hand until it rested atop his. He was warm and his skin was rough, she took so much comfort in the contact, more than she thought was healthy. 

Feeling his eyes on her, she met his gaze again, he smiled and blinked a few times, as if to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. He turned his hand over and laced their fingers together tightly. 

“I missed you, Lizzie.”

“I missed you, too.”


	7. Chapter 7

They stayed joined at the hands for a long while, both of them silent and unwilling to move. He flexed his fingers occasionally and took long, deep breaths. She felt healed and somehow more torn all at once. She never thought she would hear him admit to missing her so openly. 

“Hey Red, I’m tired, I’m going to lay down.”

He looked disappointed but nodded his head.

“I had Dembe buy new sheets and pillows, I hope you have a nice rest.”

He broke their contact and stood, “I think I’ll take a little nap myself.”

She picked up her bag and felt a pang of guilt for leaving him; mixed with her longing for simple physical contact. 

“Hey Red, I know this is going to sound...out of place...but, do you want to lay down with me?

He stopped his movements. “Lizzie, that’s probably not a great idea.”

“I didn’t say it was a great idea. I just...want you to hold me, like you used to...when things weren’t so complicated between us and we didn’t have to talk about where we go next.” 

“But we do need to talk about where we go next. I don’t think you understand.”

“No Red, I don’t think you understand. I just want to know you’re here, the rest will come later. Isn’t that what you always told me? To be patient with your answers? That’s what I’m asking you to do. But in the meantime, you’re all I have and I...I need you.”

Her tears came fast and strong. 

“Oh, Lizzie…”

He rushed forward and brought her into a tight embrace. She wrapped her arms around his abdomen and cried into his shirt. He couldn’t bring himself to shut his eyes. He had done this to her and he didn’t know how to apologize or justify anything that he did. And now they were in his small apartment, not on the run or in an underground Black Site, not a criminal and an agent. A man and a woman. 

“Lizzie, come on, I’ll lie down with you, sweetheart.”

They made their way to his bedroom and she got into the full size, nicely made bed first. He hesitantly pulled back the covers on the left side and slowly lowered his tired body next to hers. She was turned away from him. He didn’t know what to do with himself, like he had never fallen asleep before. He turned on his side to face her back and decided to just ask her what she needed from him.

“Lizzie, do you want me to…”

“Please.”

He shifted closer to her and slid his arm underneath her before wrapping the other just above her waist. 

“Red?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want me in your life?”

He squeezed her tighter. “I’ve always wanted you in my life, Lizzie. And I always will.”

"Then why did you pull away from me?"

He hesitated for a moment. "Because I thought...I was doing the right thing...for once."

She turned over to face him, she could only see the outlines of his cheekbones and brow ridge in the moonlight. She noticed he didn't remove his arm, and he seemed to be willing her to come closer with his warm hand flat on her lower back. 

"For once?"

"I don't know if you noticed, but I'm not the greatest person."

"Stop saying things like that...your choices these past few years have helped so many people...including me."

He huffed. "The last three years of my life haven't exactly invalidated my previous twenty."  
"I didn't say they invalidated them. But you're making amends with yourself, and I think you're going to continue to make the right choices. You have to live with the bad ones, but you can carve out a future of good ones, too."

"You may be right, but the right choice in my mind was always to leave you alone. You don't need an old man with all this baggage."

She breathed out heavily. He focused on her breath brushing over his face. It felt heavenly. 

"Tomorrow I'm going to tell you all the reasons why you're wrong, Raymond Reddington."

With that, she snaked her arm around his belly and pulled herself into him. She fell asleep quickly nestled between his neck and their now shared pillow. 

He tried his damndest to fall asleep. He kept periodically kissing her temple and mumbling to himself about how much he loved her. It seemed to be the only thing that never changed. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"If I fell in love with you  
Would you promise to be true?  
And help me understand  
'Cause I've been in love before  
And I've found that love was more  
Than just holding hands."

-The Beatles, "If I fell"

 

They woke almost simultaneously, tangled in each other in the most awkward of ways. HIs leg and arm were wrapped around her protectively, while her arms had both made their way around him. 

She pulled her head back to look at him. He came to awareness quickly and blinked at her tiredly. 

"Did you have a good rest?"

"Not exactly. I am looking forward to know why I was wrong, however."

She smiled at him for a while, too long really, when he thought the silence was going to kill him, he finally spoke, "What?"

"We're holding onto each other for dear life. I think that answers your question."

"You were seeking comfort in a time of need. I'm sure I could have been anyone."  
She stiffened. No, that wasn't the right thing to say. He was still trying to get used to her needing him. And he couldn't even talk to her. 

He had completely forgotten how. 

"I'm sorry Lizzie, that was..."

"Harsh?"

"I'm just...I disappointed you. And look what you did. There is no way I can be good for you. I did this to you, Lizzie. I have ruined-"

"Red. Can I ask you something?"

He nodded, she pulled herself closer to him. 

"What chance at a normal life did I have when I was born to a KGB agent? Or when I a became a profiler and the Cabal found out about me. Do you know where I would be without you?"

"Probably happy."

"No, Red. I'd be dead. And I think we both know that."

"Lizzie, you are a strong woman."

"Let me finish. Everything was going to surface even if you didn't come around.. And when you did, well, I had a partner to help me. We have been a team for a long time. Without you, I am nothing. And without me, you are nothing. I have no shot at a normal life anymore. What's done is done. And I am frankly sick of you not realizing what you mean to me."

After his continued stunned silence, she tried to lighten things. "The fact that you are comfortable in sweatpants around me must say something about how you feel about me."

He chuckled at that and brought his forehead to hers. He had never wanted to kiss her more, and for a moment he thought he would. But it would have been too much too soon. For all he knew, she enjoyed his comfort platonically and nothing more. 

"Lizzie, I don't know what I would have done if I lost you."

"I thought the same thing when you were shot."

The warmth and understanding between them pooled in each of their chests. 

"I'm not going anywhere Lizzie. I'll be with you for as long as you wish."


	8. Chapter 8

“I have a strange feeling with regard to you. As if I had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly knotted to a similar string in you. And if you were to leave I'm afraid that cord of communion would snap. And I have a notion that I'd take to bleeding inwardly."

-Charlotte Bronte, "Jane Eyre"

 

And so it went.  
They slept in the same bed, they shared their meals, and more importantly, they shared themselves.  
There was a moment in each day where she thought he was going to kiss her. She really wished he would. But they were learning about each other again, and something like that could ruin their newfound closeness. And he seemed just fine with touching and talking. But she wasn't going to make the first move and have him submit out of pity. 

So, her days consisted of hopeful glances and numbered touches. It disturbed her that she drew strength from touching him. She found it to be problematic, and she condemned herself for wanting to feel his skin. But the thought also calmed her, for once, she had a real companion, someone with a genuine interest in taking care of her. Tom had never provided a genuine sense of such physical and emotional security to her. She had projected what she needed on a man who could absorb any role and make it his own. 

There was one good thing about Tom Keen, he was a great actor. 

Raymond Reddington wasn’t. She knew he wanted her, from the way he brushed his knuckles over her bare arm in their shared bed. From the way he held her close when she cried about all that had happened. His kisses on her forehead and in her hair had become more and more dense by the day. She wanted to relocate them so their lips met, if only once. 

“Lizzie, what’s the matter?”

She didn’t realize until he brought her lunch that she had been sitting on the couch in silence. 

“Lizzie? I thought you were going to put on a movie?”

“Yeah sorry, I was thinking…”

He sat next to her, close enough so their knees touched lightly. Setting their lunches on the table, he brought his arm around her and squeezed her shoulder. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She shook her head and forced herself to smile. Her tongue felt trapped inside her teeth which were pressed together so tightly. 

“Why don’t we just talk while we eat? I’d like to take my mind off some things.”

He smiled then and took a bite of his sandwich. She followed suit and offered him one of her chips. He grabbed it with his teeth out of her fingers. 

Yes, he most certainly wants her. He looked her straight in the eye and chewed the salty chip. She opened and closed her mouth several times. Her hand was still poised in the air, stunned. He looked at her fingers and leaned down. 

No. He wasn't going to…

He brought her index finger to his lips and gently ran his tongue over the tip. He made swirling motions, ones that left her wondering where else his talents would come in handy. 

“Red?” 

He stopped and pulled away. 

“I'm sorry Lizzie, I...I don't know what to say.”

She curled her fingers into her palm and spread the wetness from his tongue around. It felt wonderfully. 

“Please, I'm not upset."

“I've been trying, Lizzie. I really have been. You need a friend right now, nothing more.” 

She stood in a hurry and made her way behind the couch. 

“There you go again.” 

Her palm was still wet with his saliva, she didn't like it anymore. 

“Lizzie, please sit down, I'm not trying to hurt you. "

“Then stop assuming things for me."

 

He paused. There wasn't really anything to say to that. There was no denying he held the illusion of power in their relationship. But it wasn't tangible anymore. She wasn't an FBI agent, he wasn't a fugitive. They were a man and a woman with convoluted feelings and overstuffed pasts filled with agony and mistakes. He couldn't even turn around to look at her. The weight of her presence made him short of breath. 

"It's hard to ignore my attraction to you, Lizzie. We sleep together, we eat together, you insist that I be with you all the time...the way you put your head on my shoulder, when you sit close to me on the couch. You're confused, sweetheart, I won't take advantage of that."

She took long, loud steps and sat on the coffee table in front of him. 

"What makes you think I don't want this as much as you do?"

"You don't want this, Lizzie. I can't do that to you."

Her eyes were sad. They were almost always sad. Perhaps he had an opportunity to restore some hope, to bring back the vibrant blue, the eyes that shined like chrome when he looked at her. 

He brought his hand up to cup her cheek, the curve of her face fitting perfectly in his warm palm. She reassured him and placed her own hand, smaller and colder, over his. 

"We can't...I can't, not with you, sweetheart."

"Red, I can't repress any more than I already am."

"I know, Lizzie. I'm sorry, after all I've done to you...it wouldn't be right."

She shifted forward so she was barely resting on the table.

"What have you done to me?" Her small hand twitched as he began to stretch his fingers on his cheek. 

"Everything."

"Then why not this?"


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter, but sweet enough I hope.

She had this idea in her mind that she needed him , and he hated it. The woman in front of him needed no one but herself. Never mind a retired criminal with a pocket full of secrets. 

"You are very important to me, Red. And you always will be. But you've become more important than you think. I tried my best to leave a distance, but don't you get it? It's impossible."

"You tried to hurt yourself over me...how could I ever make that okay?"

"You can't, Red. You can't. But you can give me what I need to recover, Red. I need to run, but I can't."

He sighed, leaning forward, he rested his ridged forehead on hers, as if he was trying to transfer his thoughts to her. 

"Lizzie, you don't need me, I am nothing, I am no one."

She brought her arms around his shoulders and he rested his on her waist, running his warm thumbs up and down rhythmically. 

"You're everything to me, Red. Everything. You've left me with no choice. You're my only shot. And I swear as long as I live, I will never forgive myself for needing someone else to make me feel okay. But I do."

He pulled back to look at her, shaking his head in denial, "no, Lizzie."

"You think this is what I wanted?"

"It's what I want, but that doesn't matter, you can still go Lizzie."

"I've been in the belly of the lion for years. Years. And you're going to deny me the only measure of comfort I want and need right now?"

"You can still walk away."

"Maybe you don't care about me as much as I thought."

She jumped up, standing close to his still seated form. He stood as well, holding her forearms tightly. Meeting her eyes fiercely, their hot breath caressing each other's cheeks. 

"Now, you can say whatever you want, but I have an innate desire to only tell you the truth. And I would appreciate you respecting that rule with me, too. You and I both know that what you just said, is as untrue as the day is long. "

It wasn't true, she knew that. She only cared about his reaction and making him feel like her. Empty. 

"Then show me how untrue it is, Red."

"I'm not doing this, not with you. You're different."

"I am. You know how? I'm not going to leave after one night, I'm not going to double-cross you, and I'm not going to hurt you."

"But I will hurt you. I already have."

"Do you know how else I'm different?

He shook his head slowly, he had run out of things to say and God, she was standing so close to him. He couldn't breathe, his vision was blurring, and he was pretty sure his heart rate had risen to unhealthy levels. 

"I love you. That's how I am different, Raymond." 

He searched her eyes, hoping they would falsify her words. They didn't. The passion he craved to draw from her once again had reappeared. And she called him Raymond for God's sake. Her head was tilted slightly and she brought herself closer to him, his heart sped up and he was sure he was going to collapse into himself. 

"Ray, we are both going to wither, we are both going to burn, I'm not naive. But I want you to tell me, would you rather burn by yourself or with me?"

His fingertips found her waist again, he gracefully brought his lips closer to hers before weakly whispering: "With you, always."

Their lips met roughly while stray wisps of her hair tickled his face; he enjoyed the dichotomy a bit too much. The sensation was overwhelming, before he knew it, he drew out his tongue to caress her bottom lip, she slowly opened her mouth to him, fresh and inviting. His tongue danced with hers, oddly similar to their movements at the Syrian embassy. Only when she pulled away slowly did the cold air of the room hit him once again. 

"I need your help, Red. And even when I get to a better place, I will still want you. Now and always."

He dropped his forehead to her shoulder and pulled her as close as he could.

"I love you, Lizzie. Now and always."


End file.
